Was I dreaming? The brightness of the sun was near blinding, its energising rays bathing my body in a pleasant warmth. Something felt different. I was lying face down, the grainy texture of sand underneath my palms, the loud yet calming crash of waves in my ears and the oddly pleasant smell of sea salt in my nose. This had to be a dream. The last thing I remembered was drifting off to sleep on the plane, vivid images of the Galapagos Islands imprinted in my mind. But it felt so real. As I slowly hauled myself up, I took in more of surroundings. Clear blue sky, not a speck of cloud in sight stretched far beyond the horizon. Inviting azure sea, twinkling in the dazzling sunlight and frothy sea foam, crashing at my feet, refreshingly cool. My next instinct was to look for other people. My eyes scanned the seemingly endless white sandy beach, looking for the familiar faces of my peers. Not another soul was to be seen or heard. Not Scarlett’s enthusiastic, curious ramblings or Brandon’s quiet, careful observations. I was certainly dressed for the occasion; a pair of dark green shorts, a white tank top, leather hiking boots and a straw sun hat. Around my neck was a golden necklace, a sea turtle charm attached; a memento from my grandma Ivy. I grasped hold of the charm, sighing ruefully as I tried to forget last month. My back pack lay only a few inches away from me. I unzipped it, checking its content. My wallet, factor fifty sun cream, my mobile, my passport, my lunch (which I never got around to eating), a bottle of water, a pocket sized Spanish dictionary, a book to read on the plane, a compass, a notebook and pen and a file, full of the various forms of research I had done on the local flora and fauna, the studies of Charles Darwin ...
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...as never terribly good at it. If only Scarlett were with me. She was a former scout and could do all sorts of things I could not, like building tents and cooking without a stove or an oven. I wanted to give up. I just wanted to go back to sleep and let the ocean carry me away. Even a lifetime of secondary school would be less terrifying than what I was faced with.
No. You have to be strong. You have to save them. I said to myself as I dried my eyes and stood up. Trying to stop myself from trembling, I slung my pack over my shoulders, collected the message, placed it in my notebook and breathed deeply. I had to do it. Everyone was counting on me, students and professors alike. To leave them behind would be selfish and unforgivable. Gritting my teeth I stepped forwards, ready to embark on my journey. There was one thing I was aware of. There was no turning back.
Waiting impatiently for the arrival of the Allegro Middleseton the Upper Chadwell Green Monitoring Unit counted every wheel-turn between start and finish of its journey, a journey that took the massive double engined, battery-powered shining blue train through the rain directly towards, and beyond the huge railway configuration situated between smokestacks 2 and 3. Upper Chadwell Green Monitoring Unit also checked on the whereabouts of Coal Train 6476.
Yaghjian deals in this chapter with how to write a theological reflection paper (TRP) well along with “rhetorics of process, problem solving and proclamation” (18). The beginning of this chapter memo is not simply an “academic exercise” but rather a good instruction to write TRP well. The author admits that there is no such model of writing Theological Reflection Paper, because different writers write a reflection paper depending on their specialization. To write a Theological Reflection Paper is to have a clear understanding of what does it mean to be “theological reflection” and the reason of writing their reflection in their particular context. Determining writing what type of paper also essential in writing reflection paper.
What was the link between Gutenberg and the scientific revolution of the 1600’s and 1700’s? And with the later industrial revolution?
They watched from the hay-loft as the clouds of dust spit out a small white sports car. Watched in amazement as the white car – ball skidded down the hill. . . The disaster, a tornado with four wheels, music blaring, sped towards them. Questioned why? Then, they heard music associated with the Fourth of July’s firework's Grande finale. What did it mean? They waited and watched. Like most Mid-westerners, they willed and prayed the impending disaster away. They were grounded, transfixed by the chain of events – unbelievable acrobatics performed by the midget car. Would a clown exit the car at the end of the show? Entertaining until the outhouse exploded and caught the porch on fire.
Tom Steffen’s family arrived at the hospital five hours after leaving the Long Island apartment he shared with his wife and daughter. Tara asked her family to take Lilly to the hotel they booked during the ride, but Margie refused. She insisted on accompanying Tara and Charlotte to the hospital.
Weeks flew by faster than ever, with everything passing in a blur. I didn't think about it in those weeks, deciding that I would deal with it when it came. Suddenly it was July, the time my camp started, and I felt all uneasy and tense again.
I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep until I felt an insistent prodding against my side. Grumbling softly under my breath, I tried to hide underneath my covers only to have them tugged sharply away. With great reluctance, I finally sat up and glanced at my mother. Everything felt sluggish as I tried to figure out why she was in my room before suddenly I paled. The school would have told her about the incident by this point. Tugging at the corners of my light blue pajamas, my gaze immediately drifted down to the corner of the bed. I couldn't face her, especially since I already glimpse the disappointment on her face.
It was the perfect day, and there was nowhere else I would rather be. It was one of those days that you wish would never end. A time when you had absolutely no worries in the world. I could have stayed at the beach forever. So far I had spent the whole morning laying in the warm sunshine. The only sounds where of the waves crashing towards the shore. All of my friends sat there quietly beside me. The girls were sitting there reading their books or laying in the sun, and the guys had just sat down to rest from kayaking. I was relaxed so much to the point that I could fall asleep.